


There are no words in the English language I could scream to drown you out

by DryDreams



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (but the comfort is. very minimal), Angst, Choking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Face-Fucking, Hate Sex, Insults, Jon cruelly uses compulsion, M/M, Rough Sex, Trans Jon, but - Freeform, crying?? a lot of it?? during sex??, dubcon, maybe I should say "loved", they love each other but, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23751064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryDreams/pseuds/DryDreams
Summary: “Kiss me.” Jon whispers.“You don’t deserve it.” Tim murmurs as he leans in.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker
Comments: 31
Kudos: 257





	There are no words in the English language I could scream to drown you out

“Tim, please—“ Jon begs as he backs up against the file cabinets. Tim just scowls and continues to step into Jon’s space. As he slams his fist down next to Jon’s head, a waterfall of files slides off the top. Jon flinches.

“You _idiot,_ what were you thinking?” Tim yells. “I’m going to put you in the ground, you—“ 

Jon pushes against his chest and when he speaks, his words come out crackling. “What do you _want_ from me Tim!? I’m trying my _best!”_

In the same growl as before, Tim starts to speak. “I _want_ you on your fucking knees, Jon, I—“

Shocked suddenly by his own words, Tim’s eyes widen and he slaps a hand over his mouth, stepping back.

Jon just gapes at him, face heating, something wanting twisting in his gut. 

“What…” he asks softly. “Did you just say?”

Tim shakes his head, still covering his mouth. 

_“What did you say, Tim?”_ Jon repeats, firmly as he closes the gap between them again, wrapping his hand around Tim’s wrist. There is no resistance when he pulls his hand away.

Tim’s cheeks are flushed and his eyes are dark. “I said that I want you on your knees, Jonathan Sims. I want to see you gag and drool around my cock, and I want to choke you til you pass out and fuck you back awake.”

He pauses, and Jon realizes that they’re both breathing rather heavily. 

“What did you do to me?” Tim asks, a touch of fright in his voice alongside the obvious arousal.

Jon tilts his head. “I don’t know. Are you going to finish?” 

Blinking, baffled, Tim just stares at him. There’s a helpless look in his eyes as he opens his mouth to continue, as if he’s moving by some will other than his own. For some reason Jon can’t find enough concern in himself to do anything about this. Distantly he thinks that he should stop, that this is awful of him to demand from his friend, that it could only make things worse. But it’s all overshadowed because he just _needs_ to _know._

“I think about kissing you all the _fucking_ time, you stupid little man, I just wish you would shut up because your voice makes me love you, makes me miss you and everything we were, everything we _all_ were before...before the _bullshit_ and I don’t _want to,_ I don’t—“ Tim’s voice softens into something like sadness as the words spill out and Jon’s heart beats loud in his ears. “I don’t want to want you anymore. You’re nothing but… trouble, you treated us like shit and you invaded our, our… you made me _afraid_ and you shut me out when I was hurting _just_ as bad as you were. And now you just sit around and let Elias get away with all his shit, let him _hurt_ people and I get so, so angry and I just want to punch you in your stupid, pretty face but then I get within five feet of you or, or you so much as look at me with your witchy green eyes and all I can think about is your mouth and everything it could do besides _talk.”_

He trails off then, looking like he might cry. His jaw is still tense with anger but it seems more diffuse, now. Less directed entirely at Jon, now that he’s been forced to confront the fact that he still seems to care, whether he likes it or not.

“I’m sorry.” He says, to Jon’s mild surprise. 

“No, you’re not.” Jon says. Then he reaches up and fists a hand in Tim’s hair, pulling him down roughly and kissing him. 

Tim barely seems surprised, just groans low in his throat and claims Jon’s mouth aggressively. 

They’ve done this before, though it seems like a million years ago. Tim may very well have been the last person Jon kissed, but he can barely remember... or maybe he hasn’t been remembering on purpose. Either way, he knows it was never like this. Tim shifts them to the side with both hands tight on Jon’s waist and then slams him back against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Jon hisses into Tim’s mouth and tugs sharply on his hair in retaliation. 

When Jon bites hard at his bottom lip, Tim pulls back with a sharp gasp. He’s got one hand fisted in the front of Jon’s shirt, now, and his grip doesn’t falter. “What are we doing?” 

Jon licks his lips and tastes iron, flicks his gaze down to Tim’s swollen mouth. “You want to fuck me? Fuck me. See if it makes you _feel better.”_

“I… I don’t...“ Tim’s chest is heaving, his gaze darting around Jon’s face like he’s searching for something. 

Jon scowls. “I’m not pulling your leg, Tim. Don’t be a coward. _Take what you want.”_

Tim’s expression turns stormy again and his top lip curls in something like a snarl as Jon’s words crackle between them. Easily he heaves Jon up by his collar and presses their mouths together again, all teeth and tongue. He shoves, and it knocks Jon’s head back against the wall. Stars explode behind his eyes and he moans as Tim’s fingers wrap around his throat and squeeze. It’s not as forceful as Jon expects it to be but it still sends a shock of want through him, and he sucks in a shallow, shuddering gasp.

Firmly he presses his thigh between Tim’s legs, feels him hard in his trousers. Tim grunts and bites at his tongue, drawing more blood and Jon digs his nails in at the nape of his neck. He drags them down, and Tim hisses in pain. 

His grip loosens and Jon takes the chance to shove at Tim’s chest. They break apart, giving Jon just enough room to drop to his knees. Tim just stares, eyebrows furrowed and pupils wide as Jon smoothly undoes his belt and unzips his trousers. 

Jon unabashedly stares back as he pulls Tim’s cock out of his pants; watches as Tim sucks in a breath and closes his eyes. His eyelashes are dark against his cheeks and Jon’s chest feels tight. When Tim grabs a fistful of his hair, Jon opens his mouth and forces himself to shut his eyes too. He isn’t sure why it’s so hard to stop looking.

Turns out, letting Tim push between his lips and fuck into his throat is still as easy as breathing. He puts his arms behind him on instinct, clasps his hands like he’s supposed to. Tim groans above him and his grip tightens. His hips snap and Jon gags just a little before relaxing, letting him shove in. “Christ, you’re still an eager little slut, aren’t you?” Tim hisses. “You always did love this.”

Jon moans and the vibration of it around the intrusion makes him gag again, more violently. Tim pulls out and drool slides down Jon’s chin; he has just enough time to take a deep breath before Tim is pushing back in, properly starting to fuck his mouth now. His cock hits the back of Jon’s throat with every thrust without fail, pushes further with an aching _pop._

And Jon does love it still; he does. He’s wet between his legs, throbbing with need and it makes him want to cry, for some reason. There are already tears starting to stream down his face just from the choking, Tim probably wouldn’t notice if he did. 

Blearily he opens his eyes and looks up, blinking the tears away so he can see. Tim is biting down on the fist that isn’t tangled in Jon’s hair, panting. There’s a flash of something that looks like sadness in his face but it disappears the moment their eyes meet, replaced with something flatter, worse. He slows the rock of his hips, though, now shallow and almost gentle. 

Jon coughs and heaves in a deep breath, then tips his head back and sticks out his tongue, letting Tim’s cock slide over it. And he watches, gazing up, eyes heavy lidded. 

Tim watches too, intensely like it’s a contest, but the control over his expression slips the longer he stares. His face crumples slightly. _“Fuck,”_ he mutters, and Jon narrows his eyes. Then Jon’s head snaps back so fast he loses his train of thought as Tim pulls hard on his hair. 

He lets out a small cry and it hurts his throat as Tim wrenches him _up._ His knees twinge with pain as he unfolds and scrambles to stand. As soon as he’s on his feet Tim is pushing a forearm under his chin, pinning him to the wall. Jon has to tip up his chin to get the shallowest of breaths and Tim follows, cutting his air supply off completely. Jon helplessly swallows and chokes, it _hurts_ and he reaches up to clutch at Tim’s arm but he’s powerless to pull it away. 

“Not so bossy now, huh Jon?” Tim growls, leaning close enough his breath puffs hot against Jon’s cheek. “I could probably crush your throat right now, easy.” He punctuates his threat with a little shove that has Jon pushing up on his tiptoes to escape the pain, white spots swimming in front of his eyes. All that comes out when he tries to plead for mercy is a muted gurgling sound.

When Tim abruptly pulls his arm away Jon’s knees buckle underneath him. He coughs violently and it turns into a sob before he can help it, fresh tears welling up in his eyes. Tim catches him with a hand on his waist and a knee between his thighs. He grips Jon’s chin and forces him to look up. “I’m going to fuck you until you scream.” He says, low and dangerous. 

Jon stares at him for a long moment. He knows without a shadow of a doubt that if he said no, Tim would back off, drop him like a hot coal. But he’s not going to say no. He isn’t sure if he thinks he deserves it or if he just _wants_ it, but he isn’t going to say no. 

So he nods, or does his best to. Tim’s eyes widen near imperceptibly, almost as if he weren’t expecting this response. Then he sets his jaw and lets go of Jon’s face, stepping back. Jon nearly falls again but he steadies himself. “What?” He tries to demand but it comes out in a croak.

“Take your pants off.” Tim says flatly. Heart racing, Jon obeys, nearly forgetting to toe off his shoes first. He’s just barely got his second foot out before Tim is back, bending and catching him behind the knees to haul him up. 

Jon bites back a yelp, gripping Tim’s shoulders and wrapping his legs around his waist instinctively. Once more his back hits the wall and, though he had a moment to brace himself, the breath still leaves his lungs with an _oomph._ Their faces are level now, so close Jon can see that Tim’s eyes are faintly rimmed red. 

“Kiss me.” Jon whispers.

“You don’t deserve it.” Tim murmurs as he leans in.

They pause just a hair's width away for one brief, shaky moment, their breath mingling, tips of noses brushing against cheeks. When Jon’s eyes focus he can see the flecks of gold in Tim’s brown eyes that he’d forgotten were there, and he suddenly feels so piercingly lonely that he thinks he might die. 

It’s Tim who leans in to kiss him again, slowly this time, so slowly that Jon can feel where they’ve stuck together when they pull apart. He aches for more, so badly, but Tim doesn’t even look back up, just bows his head, resting his forehead against Jon’s chin. His silky hair tickles as Jon’s shaking breath stirs it, and his own deep inhale shifts his shoulders under Jon’s arms. 

Then he’s pushing into Jon with no tenderness, all at once and it doesn’t hurt Jon but it _hurts,_ right between his ribs like loss. Jon briefly hopes the sob he lets out could be mistaken for a cry of pleasure. 

True to his word, Tim fucks into him with no mercy, grip painful tight on his thighs. Jon claws at his back and tries not to let his head bang too hard against the wall as he whimpers and moans and cries. 

When he comes for the first time it’s dizzying, and when Tim doesn’t so much as hesitate he feels like he might pass out. _“Please, please, please, please,”_ he whines, his head lolling forward onto Tim’s shoulder. Tim doesn’t respond, just noses under Jon’s hair and then bites down hard right where his neck meets his shoulder. 

Jon shouts and kicks, his foot jerking harmlessly into the air. Briefly his mind conjures an image of Tim looking up at him with blood in his teeth. 

Without warning Tim shoves a hand between them, easily finding Jon’s dick and rolling it rough between his fingers. He’s still far too sensitive and the pleasure is sharp; he tries to wiggle away but there’s nowhere to go, and he screams when his second orgasm is forced out of him. Tim blessedly takes his hand back, then, as Jon goes wobbly in his arms. 

In a haze he realizes that Tim is still uncharacteristically silent despite all the fuss, face firmly buried in the crook of Jon’s neck, all low grunts of effort and the quietest desperate sounds. Jon is shivering like he’s cold but he manages to curl his fingers in the hair at the nape of Tim’s neck. He’s gentle as he pets over the scratches he’d left earlier, and he presses his mouth behind Tim’s ear, where he knows there's a small round scar. He has one in the same place.

It takes him a long moment to gather himself, and by the time he has, Tim’s hips are going jerky as he fucks into Jon. 

“I’m sorry,” Jon says weakly and Tim shudders like he’s been electrocuted. In one lurching movement he adjusts them, wrapping both arms around Jon’s waist in a clumsy embrace. His hips stutter and he sobs brokenly into Jon’s shoulder as he comes. Jon feels him spill hot inside him, and has the odd feeling that he treasures it, in some twisted way. 

Jon braces himself before Tim even pulls out, and he’s grateful for it when Tim nearly drops him. Gingerly he puts his feet on the ground, leaning heavily on the wall behind him. 

Tim slides to his knees as Jon watches with dizzy confusion. He rests his head against Jon’s sweaty, slick-sticky thigh and curls a hand around his ankle. His shoulders are shaking. 

“T-Tim?” Jon asks weakly, reaching down to gently card his fingers through Tim’s hair. Carefully he kneels as well, grimacing at the cold of the floor on his bare legs. He reaches out hesitantly and pushes Tim’s fringe out of his face, cupping his cheek and prompting him to lift his head. He does, but avoids Jon’s eyes as he swipes at his nose. His face is blotchy red and there are tears tracking down his cheeks. Jon has never, ever seen him cry like this.

“Christ, I’m so goddamn sorry,” Jon spits out, feeling himself starting to tear up again too. “For everything, for all of it, I’m so… I’m…”

Tim pushes up on his knees and reaches out and Jon feels a rush of fear. But Tim just drags him close, pulling him into a proper embrace, arms tight around his waist. He presses his face into Jon’s chest and clutches at the back of his shirt. Jon shakily returns it, squeezing his shoulders gently. 

“Don’t think this means that I forgive you.” Tim says, after several long moments.

Jon hurts more than he feels like he has a right to. “I didn't-- I-I... you don’t have to.” 

“But maybe we could… maybe we can start to try. I don't know for _what_ , but...” He trails off with a heavy, forceful sigh.

The tears in Jon’s eyes sting, now, and his head is pounding. The knot in his chest doesn’t unwind in the slightest, not like he always thought it might if Tim ever said something like this. When he responds his voice sounds small. “I’ll do anything you need me to do.” 

Tim laughs bitterly. “Don’t try to make any promises, Jon. We both know you’re not capable of keeping them.”

Jon takes a deep breath and then dips his head to press a kiss to the top of Tim’s head. “Fine. No promises. But I will try.”

“Thank you.” 

There's a long pause, and then Tim huffs out something like a laugh. "Christ, I feel like shit."

Jon scrubs a hand across his face, but it doesn't really help; he's still blind with tears that just keep coming. "Yeah. Yeah, me too."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm..... sorry? I think? I wrote the bulk of this in like 8 hours and if you cried, just know that I also did, a lot. 
> 
> Thank you for reaaading


End file.
